Page 10 of The Billionaire Submissive
He had to laugh. He could read legal contracts in his sleep, though his corporate attorney always went over everything with a fine-toothed comb before letting him sign on the dotted line of a major deal. A homemade sexual contract would be nothing to worry about. “I doubt there’s much in your contract that will surprise me.”
She pressed the button to raise one of the garage doors. “I suspect you might be surprised in that regard, Mr. Morgan.”
His eyes narrowed. “Back to formality yet again, Miss Harrison?”
She followed him to his car, waiting patiently while he unlocked the door and retrieved his briefcase. “When you slip into Mr. Douchebag territory, I’m afraid so. If we agree on terms—and that’s a huge if—then I’m afraid I’ll have to resort to corporal punishment to break this insufferable arrogance.”
The thought of punishment made his hands tremble so badly it took him a second try to dial in the combination to the lock he’d done at least a million times. He managed to hand her the stack of papers without dropping them all over her driveway or accidentally touching her. “Insufferable arrogance? That’s rather harsh.”
“You assume you know everything about me just because you were able to discern that I like a challenge before we formally met.” She started scanning the top page. In his opinion, it contained the make-or-break stipulation of the most important contract of all. “That doesn’t mean you know anything else about me. In fact, I’d wager here and now you’ve made several critical errors in judgment when it comes to me.”
“Indeed?” He leaned back against the side of his Jag and crossed his arms. “I doubt that.”
Slowly, she raised her gaze from the paper and locked her eyes on him with such intensity he immediately stiffened. “You want me to break the contracts with my other submissives. That’s a pretty drastic error on your part.”
Stay calm and cool. Don’t let her know how much this means to you.“I’m sure you have escape clauses in their contracts. If not, I’ll simply buy them out.”
“It’s not that simple, Mr. Morgan. I care about these men. I’m not going to drop them like last week’s news just for you.”
Shecaresabout them?He clenched his jaws, fighting to keep from retorting.The Mistress cares for the men paying her to take them in hand. Nice.“I’m not going to share your time. I’m not that kind of man.”
“Maybe it’s about time you learned how to share. You’re not a three-year-old toddler, Mr. Morgan, and I don’t have time—”
With a low growl, he pushed away from the car. “I won’t share you and that’s final.”
Donovan Morgan in his rich asshole role was an extremely handsome man. Something she’d admire in its case, like a gorgeous million-dollar diamond necklace, but never take home. It was just too fancy for her. It wouldn’t fit into her lifestyle. It wasn’t her taste. Even if some women would kill to have it.
Donovan Morgan in his stalking predator I’m-going-to-eat-you role was a shock-and-awe strike to her libido. It was all she could do not to seize him by the cock and jerk him around to bend over the hood of his car.
He thought he was being all alpha I’ll-get-my-way-or-else, but all it did was turn her on.
However, the wording in his contract would keep her from acting on her desire.
Keeping her voice pleasantly even, she held her ground, although she did cross her arms to keep her hands from roaming unexpectedly. “You’ll share me or I won’t accept your contract.”
As he’d done in his office, he marched right into her personal space, bumping up against her, his eyes glittering, his body heat rising off him in a wave of lust and anger she could feel through her own clothes. Oh, such a wild, handsome beast. It’d be such a challenge to tame him. So much delicious fun. She met his challenge, pushing back so that her arms braced against his chest. Another reason she’d crossed her arms. She didn’t think she’d be able to stand the temptation of having her breasts pressed against him.
“You honestly think I’m going to let you fuck other men while you’re fucking me?”
She took a staggering step back, her arms falling with shock. Pain banded her chest, squeezing her heart until she couldn’t breathe. She was used to people not understanding what she did. Like Marie. She’d never understand, even if she came to one of Lilly’s sessions to watch. But she hadn’t had someone so completely and wrongly jump to such an ugly conclusion, especially when he himself wanted to be a part of her private circle. He’d hunted her down and set her up with this whole commission, just so he could pay to have sex with her?
Gathering her composure, she took a deep, shaking breath. Another. She’d already made the mistake of letting him into her home. She’d made another mistake by reacting to his hurtful words and backing down from his threat.No more mistakes, Lil. You have to nip this in the bud here and now.
Deliberately, she kept her voice soft and broken, letting the hurt vibrate through each word. “That’s what you think I do? You think I’m a prostitute?”
Surprise flickered across his face and he hesitated. He looked at her, really looked at her.
She kept her body language small, shoulders slumped, arms hugging herself for protection and wrinkling his contracts into a hopeless mess, eyes big and hopefully shimmering with emotion, her lips wobbling. Feminine distress at its finest, and it worked. It knocked him off balance and he abandoned his aggressive attack.
“I didn’t say that,” he began. She sniffed loudly and his eyes widened with alarm. “I’m sorry, Miss Harrison, truly. I thought—”
“You thought I’m a prostitute. That’s the only kind of woman who’d be fucking ten men.” She repeated his own words and he flinched at the language. “Two of them are married. That’s the kind of woman you think I am. That’s the kind of woman you want to hire to be your Mistress. Or should I say mistress with a lowercase M? Because that’s all you’re really looking for. A fuck buddy. Casual sex. Pay me a couple of thousand dollars and then throw me in the trash on your way to your next business meeting.”
“No, not at all. I didn’t—”
“Oh, I know, Mr. Morgan would pay me considerably more, right? Nothing but the best for you. You’d pay me…how much was it? A hundred thousand dollars a month. That’s a lot of fucking, Mr. Morgan.”
“Well yes, but…”
